


never quit while you're ahead

by a_secondhand_sorrow



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Baby Names, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Name choosing, Peraltiago, SO MUCH FLUFF, based on that one dan goor quote, bet, happy may 15th!, is that a tag?, pre-mac, spoilers for 7x13 if that wasn't obvious!, they bet too much its canon you Know they had a Mac-related bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_secondhand_sorrow/pseuds/a_secondhand_sorrow
Summary: "In an act of true love, Amy was on board."They should really have learned their lesson a long time ago: don’t base major life decisions on bets.Amy reminds Jake of this after each and every one, but it's her who pulls out the final bet.(or: Jake and Amy settle on a name)
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	never quit while you're ahead

**Author's Note:**

> hello! happy may 15th, national holiday. i wasn't planning on posting this but we needed something for the special day, so have some pre-baby mac fluff.

They should really have learned their lesson a long time ago: don’t base major life decisions on bets. 

Amy reminds Jake of this after each and every one; after he moves into her apartment, when Hitchcock and Scully go to her bachelorette party, and when he wagers their car for some time off. Even, looking back on it, the bet that led to their first date and the bet with Holt that led to him proposing to her.  _ Don’t forget your bet with Rosa during the Jimmy Jabs _ , she realizes aloud at some point after they find out she’s pregnant.  _ We’ve just been betting everything for this whole relationship. _

Amy reminds him of this, but it’s her who pulls out the final bet.

She starts to show - just a  _ little  _ bit, so little that Jake can barely tell, although she swears it’s obvious - three months into the pregnancy. A bit on the early side, her doctor tells them, but perfectly normal all the same. Amy curls up next to Jake on the couch when they get home with a crossword and a mug of herbal tea, one hand drifting down to her barely-perceptible bump every now and then.

“He’s probably going to be giant,” she says absently, picking up her pencil again to mark a word. The scrape of graphite on paper is familiar and soothing, a sound that Jake has come to associate with their before-bed routine so strongly that just the sound makes him a little sleepy. “All first Santiago sons are.”

He looks up at that, a smile beginning to tug at his lips. “He?” Jake echoes, one hand reaching to brush Amy’s hair back from her face. “You’ve magically discovered the sex of our baby six weeks early?”

“It’s just logic. Santiagos have sons,” she replies without looking up from her puzzle.

“And when Peraltas have sons, they don’t get along.”   
  
“Hush and stop listening to  _ your  _ father. You and our son will be just fine.”   
  
“I’m not saying we  _ won’t  _ be. Maybe I just think we’re having a daughter.”

She looks away and up towards him, her deep brown eyes narrowing. “Do you really?”

“I really do.”

“You and your puppy-dog eyes won’t sway me, Jake. I still think this kid is a boy.”

“Well, I guess we’ll agree to disagree, then.”

“That’s...very mature of you to say.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He demands, looking back down towards her. “I’m a boring adult now, and I’m just looking forward to meeting our little Holly Santiago-Peralta.”

She has the audacity to laugh at that. “We are  _ not  _ naming our child after Holly Gennero.”

“I think our daughter will be lovely as a Holly.”

“Oh yeah? How much are you willing to bet?”

Jake blinks. “We share money.”

Amy swats him lightly with the backs of her fingers. “I was joking, dork.” She turns her eyes back to her crossword, and Jake looks back to the television after a moment, satisfied the topic is dropped. But another moment passes, and Amy speaks again, her voice just a little  _ too _ casual and calculated. “Of course, we could bet something else.”

Jake turns his head so quickly his neck cracks. After he curses and Amy hides a laugh behind her smirk, he takes the bait. “Alright, Santiago, I’m intrigued. What would this entail?”

“Santiago-Peralta,” she corrects, something she only ever does in the comfort of their apartment. “And nothing too drastic. But you’re certain the baby will be a girl, and I’m sure they’ll be a boy. If you’re right, you get to name her, and if I’m right, I get to name him. Within reason, of course.”

“Because our bets are always in reason,” he mutters, earning himself an eye roll. “Alright,” he says finally, the old, competitive spark between them lighting somewhere in his ribcage. “I like those odds. You have a deal, Santiago-Peralta.”

Besides, he’s certain he’s got the bet won already.

* * *

He does not win the bet.

It’s far from the first thing he thinks - mostly, he’s filled with panic over the fact that they’ve ruined the cake and his father and grandfather are about as far from getting along as they’ve ever been. He registers the fact that he’s having a son, and he feels all the excitement and anxiety at the prospect of a little boy that is half him and half Amy. It’s only when she repeats the words back to him in the breakroom of the nine-nine, her excited cry of “we’re having a  _ boy!”  _ and the gentle grip of her hands on his forearms brings the nature of their bet back to mind. 

He should  _ really _ have learned by now not to bet against her.

She doesn’t mention it, and so he doesn’t, either - their general policy on personal matters at work. He doesn’t mention it on the car ride home, although by that point he’s fit to burst with curiosity. As soon as they walk through the door, she announces she wants to get out of her uniform. He knows it’s become more uncomfortable for her to wear the longer the pregnancy goes on, so he resolves to ask when she’s more comfortable and more willing to accept his incessant questions.

“I didn’t want to ask you earlier, at the precinct,” Jake says as she re-emerges from their room divested of all police attire, “but what’re you thinking for the name?”

“Name?” Amy says, with an air of loftiness that assures him she knows exactly what he’s asking. She settles about as gracefully as she can with her newly-growing stomach on the couch, her legs crossed at the ankle. And because he knows her so well - has lost  _ so many  _ bets to her - he knows what she’s waiting for. 

He collapses heavily onto the couch cushions beside her, nearly choking himself on his badge in the process, but it’s divested of nearly immediately by Amy and her nimble fingers warm on the back of his neck. He smiles at her gratefully before diving back into their post-bet rhythm. 

“Any Santiago, love-” 

“That’s Amy Santiago-Peralta,” she interrupts, a smile already curling onto her lips. Her tone gives none of it away. “You’d think that after three years you’d get it right.”

“Oh damn, the sergeant voice,” Jake replies, his own voice lowered.  _ “Be mean to me.” _

“Jake,” she says, widening her eyes a bit for emphasis. She pats her stomach.

“Right, right,” he mutters. “Gotta pay homage. Amy Santiago-Peralta, love of my life, mother to our future child, crossword connoisseur, and possessor of one bomb-ass butt - your sex-discerning skills on the topic of the said unborn child are unrivaled, and you have thoroughly outmatched me in every way.”

Her dark brows furrow together. “There was only one possible way to outmatch you.”

“And you did it, Ames! Every way!” Jake says, flashing a toothy grin up at her. “Now please tell me what you’re thinking of for a name because I’m going to implode.”

“Well, that’s a little dramatic.”

When she doesn’t continue, he stares up at her in disbelief. “Really? Eight years as coworkers, three years of marriage, and a few months separated from having created a literal human being, and  _ now _ is the time you become averse to all my drama?”

“Well, I’m just not sure of the name yet, Jake,” she says, and the same loftiness is back in her tone. 

“There are three binders.”

“You need at least five to get all the good contemporary names, and that’s before Santiago family trad-”

“Ames,” Jake says, reaching for one of her hands where it rests on her thigh. “Please. I wanna know how cursed this kid is gonna be.”

Her eyes soften at once, but her smile doesn’t. She reaches her free hand to trace her thumb over his cheek, and he leans into the touch automatically, feeling a bit like a little kid again. “This little Shrek could never be cursed,” she murmurs, and he laughs lightly. “You’re his dad.”

“A Peralta dad isn’t a good thing, Amy. I mean, we broke his sex reveal cake-”

“Your father and grandfather did,” she says, surprisingly sharp. “The Peralta dads. You didn’t do anything.”

“I never thought I’d be so glad to hear those words,” he says under his breath, not quite reaching her eyes. Her hand on his face guides his eyes there, and he swallows hard once. “I’m gonna be one of them, though. I tried to - to bring them together, so it’s my fault. I’m gonna be another Peralta dad with a son he can’t take care of.”

“Jake,” Amy says, firm again, although her eyes are soft. Her thumb traces over his cheek. “Not your fault. It was the Peralta dads. Jake Peralta- _ Santiago _ . Remember? Three whole years?”

He nods, hesitantly.

“You’re gonna be the best Peralta-Santiago father there could ever be,” she whispers against his skin and leans down to press her lips to his. It’s a quick kiss, but his eyes slide shut into it at the feel of her curved lips against his. She pulls away, and her hand drops away from his face. 

“So?” he says, a little breathless. “Name?”

She smiles at him and reclaims both her hands to tuck her hair behind her ears. They drop to her stomach a moment after. “Mac,” she says, a definite hint of pride laced in it. 

“Mac?”

“Short for McClane.”

He could swear his heart stops. “Oh my God.”

Jake might just be projecting, but he swears he can see his wife’s eyes growing misty. “Oh my  _ God,  _ Ames, are you - are you sure? You were so against all of that, I don’t want you picking a name you don’t like just to make me happy.”

She shakes her head. “That’s his name,” she half-whispers. “That’s what he's meant to be.”

He can feel his own eyes softening as they are so wont to do around Amy, the very thought of their little son - little  _ Mac,  _ like every dream he’s ever had come true - filling him with such a surge of emotion that he catches Amy in another kiss, her laugh spilling into his mouth. Her hands grasp at his shirt, and he raises one hand to cup her elbow, and he could swear that he’s never been happier with his life than he is at that moment.

Once he’s pulled back, he lets out a sudden whoop, and Amy jolts forward and grabs his hand to still him. “The neighbors!” She hisses, and they both go silent at once, waiting for the telltale banging from the floor above them that normally alerts them to the fact that their neighbor is pissed. When it doesn’t sound, Jake exhales the same breath he’d been holding from his exclamation. 

“Mac,” he repeats. “It’s perfect.”

She smiles again, her cheeks flushed with everything from the conversation they just had. “If it’s good enough for you and your hero, it’s perfect for me.”

“I wish I could propose to you again,” Jake says, and this time Amy reaches for him, wrapping her arms around him for a tight hug. “I love you so,  _ so  _ much.”

“So much,” she echos into his shoulder. After a pause, she winces against him and Jake feels his heart nudge into his throat. “God, he’s kicking so much.”

Every time he feels the baby move - his son, his Mac,  _ their _ Mac - every nerve in his body jumps into action, and his heart into his throat. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt a love so intense for anything in his life. He clears his throat, hoping Amy doesn’t hear how thick his voice is. “Yeah, I think I can feel it against my stomach.”

“Good,” she says. “This kid is 50% you. Take some of the brunt of the head butting.”

“Happily, Ames. He’s my kid, after all. He’s got to burn off energy somehow.”

(Amy was truly right on both of her original accounts - Mac  _ is _ a large baby, despite being born a little early, and his parents wouldn’t have him any other way.)

**Author's Note:**

> please comment and kudos if you enjoyed! i appreciate every one so much and also will owe you my firstborn. happy peraltiago day kids


End file.
